I search her face, waiting for the punch line. A sign that she isn’t serious.
But only determination shines in her eyes. And underneath it, embarrassment.
Now the BMW, the designer clothes, and the summer rates she pays year-round without blinking make sense.
“I knew you weren’t hurting for cash,” I say. “Figured your family had money. But how rich are your folks?”
Her cheeks flush that pretty pink that I love. Except this time, it’s not from desire or happiness—but shame.
“I haven’t told you everything.” Faye wrings her hands. “About my life in California.”
My heart sinks.
No.
Not now. Not on top of everything else. I can’t lose the family legacy and the woman I love in the same forty-eight hours. Because I do love her, as sure as rain follows drought.
I’m in love with Faye Rose. And from the guilty way she’s looking at me, she’s about to tell me something that will change everything.
“What is it?” The question rasps against my throat.
She wraps her arms around herself. “When I said I worked as a game developer, I also… mmm… owned part of the company.”
My brain needs a second to process.
“Are you saying you’re a closeted tech millionaire?” I let out a shaky laugh that rings out hollow.
She doesn’t smile back.
Her face gets more serious. More apologetic.
The ground crumbles under my feet.
“It’s a little more than that,” she mumbles.
I stare at her. The person I thought I knew. The woman I’ve been falling for since the day we met.
And I realize I don’t know her at all.
“How much more?” The question is harsh. “Eight figures?” Her eyes widen in fear. “Nine?”
She doesn’t answer. She just looks at me with those eyes full of guilt and an apology.
“Faye.” I sound distant even to my own ears. “How many zeros are we talking about?”
Her throat works as she swallows, but still doesn’t answer.
“Are you a fucking billionaire?”
She winces.
Then nods.
The world tilts sideways.
I grip the fence rail to steady myself. But it doesn’t help. Faye isn’t who I thought she was. The woman who wears faded video game T-shirts and reads spicy fairy tales and gets carsick on long drives—she’s a billionaire. And a liar.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The ice in my voice shocks even me. My tone is cold enough for her to flinch.
